


Ashes To Ashes

by wandaseverlark



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: 2008, Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Coma, F/M, Love/Hate, Mentions of Rape, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Set in London, Slow Burn, Time Period 1981 - 1983, Trigger Warnings, but it's never seen, offensive language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26662189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandaseverlark/pseuds/wandaseverlark
Summary: "My name is Katniss Everdeen. I've just been shot and that bullet has sent me back to 1981. I may be one second away from life, or one second away from death. All I know is that I have to keep fighting, fight to live, fight to see Prim, fight, to get home."
Relationships: Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair, Gale Hawthorne & Finnick Odair (Friendship), Katniss Everdeen & Finnick Odair (Friendship), Katniss Everdeen & Gale Hawthorne (Friendship), Katniss Everdeen & Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea in my head and now I can't get it out. For those of you who have seen Ashes To Ashes (a British TV show on the BBC in 2008) and Life On Mars (the original), then you'll recognise a lot about this. This is my Hunger Games AU with a twist style of it, set in 2008 like the original show, with a few cases the same, but a lot of twisting and turning. The title is, of course, the same, but only because I am AWFUL at names. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> I do not own THG, any of its cast or wonderful characters. I wish I did as I would know Josh and Jen, and I would be mega rich. I also don't own the BBC, Life On Mars or Ashes to Ashes.
> 
> Ashes To Ashes

_London, 2008_

"My name is Cato Hadley. I had an accident and I woke up in nineteen seventy-three. Was I mad? Was I in a coma? Or was I back in time? Whatever had happened, it was like I'd landed on a different planet. If I could figure out why I was here then maybe I could get home."

Prim scoffs from her place in the passenger side of the car, reading out loud from the file on her lap. "That is so lame." She comments.

Frowning, Katniss glances at her young cousin beside her. "Prim, return the classified, very important and private document back to my bag, thank you." She requests, only being half serious.

Katniss Everdeen, only thirty-two and already a Detective Inspector with the Metropolitan Police in London, England, hardly needed her twelve-year old- as of today- cousin telling everyone at school about the information within the police files Katniss should have never brought home.

She should have never volunteered to take her young cousin to school that day, but she jumped at the chance to spend some time with her before she had to go to work, especially since it was Prim's twelfth birthday of all days.

"What did Haymitch get you for your birthday?" Katniss asks softly, her eyes focused on the road as she wonders what Prim's father could have possibly gotten her. Her Uncle Haymitch never had a lot growing up, and she knows he spoils Prim, as well as Katniss herself when she was in his care, but she also knows that he occasionally (always) goes slightly overboard.

"A blackberry." Primrose informs her, a smirk on her face. "Don't change the subject. This guy, Hadley, was he a schizophrenic or delusional?"

"He was a good guy, if not a little cocky, and he was a great copper." Katniss cuts her off, not allowing her cousin to inadvertently desecrate the memory of a good man. "He died, last year."

"Sad." Prim hums, just as Katniss's radio springs to life, the voice of her Sergeant coming through.

" _DI Everdeen, South Bank, outside the Tate Modern, gunman has taken a woman hostage."_ The voice comes through, making Katniss's eyes widen.

"Fuck!" She exclaims. "Prim, put the siren light on and don't ever tell your father I took you to a crime scene. Got it?"

Prim grins, grabbing the siren light and turning it on, making the wailing of it drone through the streets as they speed through traffic, and the force of Katniss putting her foot down makes the files in Prim's lap spill out, the contents going on the car floor, with the face of a blonde man and red writing across the top of the page:

**DCI Cato Hadley: Prolonged Deep Coma – Outcome: SUICIDE**

Within minutes, Katniss has parked right by a huge crowd, getting out of the car and leaning her head in. "Stay here, don't move, I'll be back in a minute." She demands, making Prim groan.

"Don't go!" Prim nearly begs, eyeing the crowd in front of the car, her voice shaky. "Just get back in the car, we can spend my birthday together-"

"Prim, part of growing up is knowing when to do what you're told." Katniss scowls. "Stay in the car."

Standing up tall, Katniss rearranges her brown leather jacket around her as she pushes through the crowd, her head swiveling around as she spots her Sergeant, making a beeline for him. "Sergeant," She stops in front of him, clearly unimpressed, her long dark braid moving with her actions as she turns her head to look at the scene in front of them. "What's going on?"

"Seneca Crane, he was trying to rob that woman, she put up a fight and then he pulls out a gun from no where." He explains, watching the scene as the woman screams for help.

"I have my cousin in the car, c'mon." She groans, staring at the man at the edge of the railing, a good distance away from them, holding a woman hostage with a gun against her head. "Is this-"

"He claims he will only talk to you."

Katniss brushes the hair in front of her face that has come from her braid behind her ears, sighing. "Fine." She steps out past the crowds, pushing them out of her way. "Can we please move these people?" She exclaims, pushing a man out of her way before going under the police barricade to step closer to the man holding a gun to a woman's head.

He's tall, much taller than her, with a perfectly neat beard in some weird formation, which doesn't match with the rest of his clothing, dirty and stained, and she can smell him all the way from a foot away.

Her hands go up, showing him she doesn't have a gun on her. "I'm DI Katniss Everdeen, you asked to speak to me." She tells him, her eyes following his movements until he screams at her.

"Don't stare at me, I DON'T LIKE IT!" He yells, pressing the gun to the woman's temple further. "Look away or I'll shoot her in the head, I swear!"

"Okay," She nods, quickly looking to the right of him, making sure not to even attempt a glance over. "Let her go, and we can talk, Mr. Crane." She calls over, hating that she can't look at him, but she's well aware of the marksmen training their eyes on them, waiting to shoot him down. "I help people who are trapped, Mr. Crane. I help them find out how to escape. Now let her go, please, and we can have-"

"NO! You can't help me!" He screams, his finger itching on the trigger, but he still throws the woman away from him, who runs off crying in relief.

Instead, he focuses his gun on Katniss, shaking from what Katniss can only assume is something close to nerves- and possibly withdrawal. "Get over here." He requests, and she slowly inches forward. "You've got your fathers eyes, you know that, Katniss?" He comments.

Her head snaps up, a frown on her face. "My father? How did you know my father?"

"Last time I saw you, you were only five." He chuckles, gesturing for her to move closer. "I knew both your parents...remember?" Seneca smirks, before his tone takes on a type of singing tune. " _I'm happy, hope you're happy too_."

Her mind flashes with an explosion, one she remembers very, very, well, but she quickly pushes it aside. "How did you know my parents?"

All of a sudden, he lunges at her, just as Prim- who Katniss has no idea where she came from- comes out and rushes to her. "KATNISS!"

Trying to rush over to Prim to push her back, out of harms way, someone beats her to it, and Katniss yelps in fear, her hands going up as a gun presses into Prim's temple.

Seneca.

"DON'T SHOOT!" She yells to the marksmen, knowing the sudden movement will have shocked them and made them trigger-happy. She's also yelling it to Seneca, tears gathering from the fear of losing her in her eyes. "DON'T SHOOT!" She nearly screams, inching closer as Seneca drags Prim with him towards the steps.

"Don't follow!" Seneca yells to her, Prim crying out in fear as he yanks her with him down the stairs. "I'll shoot-"

Then, they're out of eyesight, and Katniss lasts a full five seconds of waiting before there's the loud sound of a gunshot, and she screams, running down the stairs like her life depends on it. "Prim!" She calls, looking around the empty beach, fully expecting to see Prim's dead body lying on the pebbles.

Within a few seconds, Prim steps out from an alley, shaking like a leaf as she runs over to Katniss, who immediately wraps her arms around her. "Thank God." She whispers, pressing kisses to her cousins blonde braids, breathing heavily.

Her eyes search around the area as armed officers circle around, everyone in search of Seneca, but none of them seem to find him, and even Katniss can't see any sign that he was ever there to begin with.

Gone.

After a while of Katniss comforting her, both of them glad to be alive and safe, she brings her out of the beach, walking her down the road so they can take a minute before they have to do anything, and Katniss spends a good portion of time texting on her phone before they stop at a walkway.

"Listen, your dad is going to take you home." She kneels by her, spotting Haymitch rushing over to them, panic in his eyes and also- she's certain- anger over what Katniss did. "I have to do a lot of reports now but-"

"You could have been killed!" Prim cuts in, a frown on her face and tears streaming down her cheeks. "You could have been shot and killed right in front of me!"

Katniss frowns. "That would never happen."

"It happened to your parents when you were five! Why can't it happen to me at twelve?" Her cousin argues, and Katniss wipes the tears from her face gently.

"I told you to stay in the car." Katniss scowls. "It's a hard, screwed-up world Prim." She whispers, knowing Haymitch is closing in on them. "But if you learn to trust me, I can help you get through it."

Prim finally seems to notice her father, tearing out of Katniss's arms to rush to him, and he picks her up to hold her close, his eyes catching Katniss's. Concern and anger are the emotions she can read from him, and she gives him an apologetic look.

She waits for them to have a moment, before she knows she needs to go, giving them one final glance. "I'll see you later, little duck!" She calls to her. "We'll blow out the candles together."

Blowing her one final kiss, she watches Prim reach out as if to grab it, before the pair walks off together, and Katniss turns on her heel, heading back to her car.

She drops into the drivers seat with a sigh, watching the police all around, seeming to check everything and everyone in search of the man who attempted to kill her, and she groans to herself.

Taking a few moments to calm before she has to go to work, she thinks back on the conversation before, when he held a gun to her and sung, and she finds herself singing softly too. "I'm happy, hope you're happy too..." She whispers-sings, staring ahead of her.

Suddenly, she feels the barrel of a gun press against the back of her neck, and she yelps out loudly, knowing exactly whom it is without having to turn, but she glances back anyway.

He has on dark, reflective sunglasses, and he looks calmer than before but all the more pissed off, gesturing with his head to her steering wheel, a scowl that matches her own on his face.

"Start the car."

* * *

Seneca pushes Katniss roughly along the gangplank, the old metal creaking and groaning with every step they take, aged with rust and god knows what else, and she breathes in slow, deep, breaths so she can remain calm. Well, as calm as one can be with a gun against their back.

He's leading her to some kind of boat that looks as though it hasn't moved in over twenty years, but she tries her hardest to remain calm. Behind the boat, on the river, the Millennium Dome is visible, and she wonders if anyone there would hear if she screamed for help.

She manages to reign in her terror as she's pushed down steps and through hallways until she's in some kind of gritty, old room with a mattress on the ground, and she notes the name of the boat being 'Lady Di' but not much else in her state.

Behind her, Seneca has her phone in hand, speaking into it to someone she doesn't know- she doesn't know anything, and she hates that. "Hello? Remember me? It's Crane, yeah...I've got a piece of your past here." He pauses, chuckling into the phone. "I have Iris and Rowan Everdeen's daughter, so you better listen!"

Katniss whips around to face him, her eyes wide in shock. "How do you know my parents?"

Crane smirks, pushing her to sit down on the mattress behind her, but he keeps his distance well away, the gun trained on her. "I'm going to tell her...I'm going to tell her the truth about why her parents died. And your life?" He chuckles into the phone. "It'll be in ashes, so...now we're going to talk about how you get me out of this mess I'm in. Think on it."

After, he hangs up the phone, and she curls her knees into her body as she watches him stumble around the room. "I-Mr. Crane, I am on your side. Those officers before, at the Southbank, they just wanted to shoot, they didn't care." She tries to play up to him, her voice high pitched and panicked.

"I used to be somebody." He tells her, the gun poised at the ready to shoot her, and he's shaking with rage.

"Who did you call?" Katniss asks, a tear slipping down her cheek, and she hates being so pathetic. "What do my parents have to do with this? They've been dead for...a very long time." She explains, hoping to god there must be some kind of mix up.

He scoffs. "You know, I had an empire going, back in the day. I had a dealer on every corner, I had cops just like you in my back pocket-"

She nods slowly, wiping at her eyes. "So things went wrong. I understand that. I can help you. We can talk this through. Do you...want to speak about it?" Katniss asks, brushing the hair from her braid that's come out behind her ear.

Then, he just smirks cruelly at her, and her phone rings in his hand, which he quickly answers. Within a few seconds, his face falls, and he sighs like it's a small inconvenience. "Well...that is bad news."

His hand drops, and she smiles to herself but very quickly hides it. She can sense an ending, and she inches her back up, straightening her posture. "It's over, Mr. Crane."

"So it is."

She nods, reaching out for the gun. "It's over. So just give me the-"

The gun lifts in his hand and he shoots.

She sees it. The bullet. She can see it coming towards her as if in slow motion, and her whole life flashes right then. It's too quick for her to piece apart every memory, but the important ones come to her in that millisecond before the bullet hits her and she's able to comprehend her fate.

Her blowing a kiss and Prim catching it like it's precious.

The bullet was still coming toward her.

A Ford Escort blowing up in a flash, and the sound of a scream in the distant background, with a song having been playing just before.

_I'm happy, hope you're happy too._

Prim catching her kiss, the explosion of a car, the music, and then the memory of her standing in front of a grave, tears streaming down her face, and then to some kind of police station, with a checkered ceiling that makes her feel dizzy, and back to her at the grave at only five years old.

**ROWAN AND IRIS EVERDEEN**

_**1950-1981** _

_**BELOVED PARENTS TO KATNISS AND LOVED BY MANY.** _

The music continues, that same line again and again, and her memories flash over and over in a never ending loop, before she hears a loud scream- and she can't tell what's being said, but she knows enough to know it's a woman and it's a horrific screech.

Her mind spins, her palms are sweaty and her heart goes a million miles and hour, and then she feels nothing, and her whole world goes black.

Like a dream, her eyes flutter open.

It takes a few seconds to blink, to gather her surroundings and figure out what's happened, before she opens her eyes fully and takes note of her situation. She was shot in the head. She shouldn't be able to open her eyes.

Glancing down at her body, she takes note of the short, red, leather dress she has on; completely different from the outfit she put on that morning – which had been a simple top and jeans with a brown leather jacket. Now, she has on a thick, white fur coat, one that she's stifling in but refuses to take off, laying back on a bed with large hoop earrings digging into her neck.

Her hair, once in a professional, simple, long, braid, is now at her shoulders and curled, with enough lacquer to slide down a cobbled street. It feels stiff and yet somehow still free enough to move around, and she's even more confused than she was before.

Panicking, she presses a hand to her face, sitting up slowly as she gathers her bearings. No bullet wound, no blood, and definitely no mattress on the floor, no gun, no Seneca.

Her hand falls onto the plush bed beneath her, and she spots a name on the wall beside her, figuring out she must be on the same boat she was shot on- considering she's still on _The Lady Di_ , just as she was before.

Nothing makes sense.

She should be dead. Maybe she is dead? Is this hell or heaven? She isn't sure.

The boat she had been on before was dark, dingy, looked like it hadn't been used in years and stunk of urine, and looked like an underground crater, not a boat, not like this. This boat, the same boat, is somehow light and lush, decorated within an inch of its life in a garish and overly luxurious way, and she doesn't understand.

Around her, she hears the beating of drums as music on speakers, and she manages to stand and exit the room she was in, which opened up a whole new scene.

Instead of the quiet of the room with the quiet sounds of music, she's now surrounded by it, loud and painful to her ears, but she recognises the song as one she loved as a child. "Ultravox...Vienna?" She mumbles, remembering the name as it came out the year her parents died in nineteen eighty one, but it's still played often enough on the radio in her car, so she barely reacts to hearing it.

' _The image has gone only you and I...it means nothing to me!'_

She manages to stumble forward, the far too high inched heels she has on making it difficult but she finds her footing easily enough. She notes the people all around her, with women dressed similarly to her and men in silver-white suits, a woman hanging on each arm with champagne in hand.

It's not hard to figure out, to her at least, that they're all drunk and coming from an all-nighter, and she knows for a fact that this is a party boat, and that the women are prostitutes, though that's not something she's ever dealt with before, she knows people still do it. What she doesn't understand is why she's there. Why would she be on a boat full of prostitutes and rich men, dressed like one herself?

Around her, everyone seems to be enjoying the party, or the end of it, mouthing along to the music. As she walks, she spots a few men with Walkman's in their hands, and a few offer for her to listen but she bats them away with wide, panicked eyes.

She feels a hand slip down to grab her behind, and she pushes him away with a low growl, yelling for him to let her go, and he moves back with a disgruntled look but says no more, and she knows she has to go, especially when the music is swelling in the air and she can feel everyone gearing up to sing the climax of the song.

Pushing her way through the crowd, it feels like the world is spinning, and she just manages to clamber out of the boat and rush down the gangplank as she hears people half singing-half screaming. "THIS MEANS NOTHING TO ME, OH VIENNA!"

Looking ahead of her as she runs, her red purse she has no idea how she got swinging on her arm, she spots uniformed police officers running her way up the gangplank, and she sprints towards them. "Help! Help me!" She cries out.

They pay her no attention, running ahead towards the boat party, and she grapples with two female officers heading her way, crying out for help in a panicked manner, barely taking note of the drastically different uniform they all seem to be wearing compared to the uniform as it looks normally.

"You've got to help me." She begs a female officer, holding onto her arm tightly. "Please help me, I've been shot! I've been SHOT!" She screams as the woman runs past her, not seeming interested by Katniss's beginning. "I've been SHOT!" She yells after her, but continues to run down the gangplank.

She manages to run far enough that she ends up in an alley just past the boat, back on solid ground, and the area is dark, like a warren for a rabbit, full of shadows and warehouses but she pays them no attention as she sees the wall in front of her.

Adam Ant's new album has a poster up on the wall. The album that came out in 1981, the one she begged her mother to buy her and that she never received as they died that year.

It must just be a mix up, she reasons; someone has left the posts up for years. This place can't have been touched in years; it's plausible someone left the poster up, she reasons.

Out of nowhere, a man comes up behind her, grabbing her arm and shoving her back against the wall behind her. It's the same man that attempted to grope her on the boat, and she yelps at the pain in her back, but she's too shell-shocked to do anything, only staring at him and taking him in.

He's young, probably only her age, with bouffant hair and blonde highlights that she hasn't seen in years, and his hair bounces with every move he makes. He has on a blue jacket that looks more expensive than anything she's ever seen, and he is one very, very, pissed off man.

"It was _you,_ wasn't it?" He spits out at her, holding her against the wall roughly, and she quickly shakes her head, noticing the cocaine powder around his nose, but she doesn't say a word against it. "You called the police, you evil little tart!"

"No!" She manages to find her voice, grappling to get away, but she's too stunned to make any real impact. "I have no idea-"

He chuckles darkly, shaking her with force so her back smacks against the wall. "You'll regret that, sweetie."

Rearing to hit her, or god knows what else, there's the sudden scream of tires in the background, and the pair's heads snap towards the sound.

In the opening of the large alley, she sees a flash of red, and she pushes on the man in front of her whilst he's distracted, managing to get him off enough to run towards the car to call for help, but the man has grabbed her once more, holding her with her back to his front, his arm wrapped around her neck.

Then, a red Audi Quattro drives into the alley at an impressive speed, and she watches as it heads straight towards them, straight to a huge stack of bins before swerving at exactly the right moment to avoid them, only to break inches away from Katniss and the man holding her by her neck.

There's a moment of pause, as both her and the man behind her try to figure out what happened, and then a pair of black shoes, perfectly polished and looking brand new, step out before the rest of the person wearing them does too. Immediately after, two other people step out of the car, all three of them brandishing Magnums with smirks on their faces, and she stares in awe.

She takes note of the two men who got out of the back seat, one of them looking a couple of years younger than her, and she'll assume he could only be in his early thirties- if not earlier.

He's handsome, she'll admit, with muscular arms and a slim but athletic frame, and she can tell that he's somewhat cocky about his looks within the first few seconds of staring at him. He's tall and tan, with bronze hair and sea-green eyes that make even Katniss feel ever so slightly weak in the knees, even if he isn't her type. That and he's wearing the tightest light-blue denim jeans she's ever seen with white shoes and a same colour denim jacket over a dark red dress shirt, really puts her off.

And the fact she's terrified.

The second man is the opposite of the first, much taller for starters, with olive skin and black hair, and he wears a pair of dark shakes as he chews on his gum. He looks to be slightly younger than her, but older than the bronze haired man, but she doesn't think much else about him, besides the fact he has on a black turtle neck shirt that's a size too big for him with a brown leather jacket on top, with a pair of slack she thinks should have been left in the eighties.

Last, but by no means least, the first man finally steps out into her eyesight completely, a gun proudly in hand and a smirk to match. He's nowhere near as tall as the other men, being probably the same height as her if not only an inch taller- though she is somewhat a tall woman, but he more than makes up for it in his stocky build. He looks strong, stronger than the other two, and he seems more certain than either of them about holding the gun in his hands, pointed directly at them.

His hair is curled slightly at the ends, even though she can tell he's tried to shape them in some way but the ends fall over his forehead like a mop, and she hates herself for wanting to run her fingers through them. Though she can't deny that she finds him the most attractive out of the three men, she can say that he's the best dressed- if that matters at all.

He's in a silvery-grey suit that fits him well, not too tight or too lose, though it's unbuttoned for easy movement, with a tie that's tied perfectly, and he looks like he's stepped off a runway, not out of an Audi Quattro.

The blonde is, also, the first to speak, his tone irritated and bored, like he's done this too many times and has grown somewhat tired. "Today, my friend," He starts, and Katniss raises an eyebrow at how calm he is, especially when all three have guns pointed at her. "Your diary entry will read, took a prostitute hostage, and was shot by three armed bastards."

Katniss frowns, knowing she recognises that turn of phrase from somewhere, and her mind reels. She knows that phrase, 'armed bastards', and not from crap TV on late nights in her London home. No, she knows it from one very specific person.

Cato Hadley. The man whose file Prim had been reading earlier in the day. The man who committed suicide as an attempt to get back to the year he had been sent to, the year nineteen seventy-three. He once claimed that there were three officers that he knew back in his coma.

He claimed, to her, that there was Finnick Odair, who was cautious but strong, kind and less brash than his best friend and partner, Gale Hawthorne. Gale was rude and sexist, thought he was right all the time and that the only way police could do their jobs was through force. Then, there was the man who had been Cato's boss in his coma, a man he called 'guv' but Katniss had managed to figure out was someone known as DCI Peeta Mellark. Apparently, he listened more, but was a mixture of the other too, and took no bullshit from anyone, but had a soft side he rarely showed, as well as being somewhat of a 'bastard' himself.

But that's not possible, she reasons.

The man behind her tightens his grip around her, and she yelps softly, coming back to the scene in front of her, and all three men pull the safety down on their Magnums like something out of a movie, ready to attack.

"He could have a gun, guv!" The brunette man calls, stepping closer to where Katniss is.

As if on autopilot, she finally finds her voice. "Don't let this get out of control." She manages to say to the man holding her, and he scoffs, gripping her so hard she feels like she'll bruise.

"Careful," The blonde, who said the phrase that made her think, calls to her, a frown on his face. "This is one man you don't want letting his load off."

Piping up once more, she speaks. "Think! You need to be smart." She starts, swallowing her fear. "If you chose a path of self-destruction driven b-by illogical pride and delusional self-importance you will enjoy only a fleeting sense of power before being..." She thinks of the best words, and her voice shakes when she finds them, her tone high pitched, as she's frightened. "Well, shot and killed." She watches the two men- the brunette and bronzed haired ones- glance at each other in confusion before back to her. "It is vital that you over-ride the need to obtain what can only be a fictitious glory and a misleading illusion of free will." She whispers calmly.

The brunette man clicks his tongue. "Is it just me or...is that hooker speaking nonsense?"

Katniss swallows, getting an idea. "A fatality outcome is what these officers want." She tells him quietly, being simple.

Behind her, she hears a small chuckle, before she's released from his grip, and he steps away with his arms raised, his hands out in surrender. "I'm unarmed, officers..." He smirks, obviously seeing some kind of angle. "No fatality outcome today."

She takes a breath, thankful she managed to get out of that one, and she watches as the brunette steps up to the man who held her, before punching him square in the gut, and Katniss watches as he falls to the ground with a groan. Still, he smirks and chuckles even as the brunette shoves him onto his feet. "This will amount to nothing, remember Mr. Mellark." He directs his words at the blonde who spoke to her before.

He's taken out of sight, brought towards the car, and Katniss's eyes widen as she realises what he said. "Mellark?" She whispers, her eyes moving to three men, her face a picture of awe.

"Gale," The blonde looks to the brunette man, who Katniss now realises must be called that, and she frowns. "We'll question him down the station, cuff him." He turns to the bronze haired man. "Finnick, look after the woman, she looks like she could do with a drink. Classiest prostitute I've ever seen." He comments.

Frowning, she takes a step forward as 'Finnick' move to take her arm gently. "DC Finnick Odair?" She questions.

"Uh, that's me." He nods, sounding confused.

Her head turns to the brunette, who is taking the Walkman that the man who is being arrested had and is wrapping it up. "DS Gale Hawthorne?" She asks, and he gives her a scathing look but nods once.

Inside, she's stunned, and the whole world is spinning out of control just like it did when she was shock, and she only manages to glance at the man in front of her, the blonde who was called 'Mellark', and she knows his answer but she still whispers. "DCI Peeta Mellark?"

He nods slowly, and he quirks a brow but looks marginally concerned for her. "My reputation precedes me." He comments, as her world spins.

And then her world goes black.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's July nineteen eighty-one." She whispers, and Peeta looks at her like she's a circus animal, like it should be obvious. "This was the year my parents died."
> 
> Peeta frowns, not seeming to take pity on her, only looking irritated as he pulls off his coat and hangs it up. "Of what, confusion?" He steps up to her, leaning on his desk. He watches as she tries to type into the computer, and a woman walks in with a stack of reports in hand.

_London, Fenchurch East Police Station, 1981_

Prim catches her kiss, leaping up in the air to grab at air, and Katniss smiles to herself, before heading back to her car.

A car bomb exploded.

A scream.

And then a voice in the background breaks her out of her imagination, and Katniss focuses, her eye slowly open, taking in her surroundings. She's lying with her head against the window of an Audi, and she has two men staring down at her, both with cigarettes hanging out of their months, and they both immediately stand up tall and pretend not to be looking at her.

She groans, realising it wasn't all a horrible dream, climbing out of the back of the car to see they're in front of a police station- one that has Fenchurch East written across the top- with women and men in handcuffs being dragged up the steps as they're being arrested.

Beside her, there are the two men who had been staring at her, and in front of them is a blonde, and she remembers everything. "Focus, Everdeen," She mumbles to herself, trying to remember everything she could possibly need to know about her situation, though she struggles for a few spare seconds. "This is a sub-conscious construct caused by severe cranial trauma." She mumbles to herself. "Well, that was easy."

Near her, one of the woman who is being brought in clocks sight of the man Katniss has realised is Peeta Mellark, the DCI that she has heard about from Cato Hadley's ramblings about his time in 1973, but she knows that this can't be then, it just can't. "Fascist pig!" She yells at him, and he raises an eyebrow.

"We only need a statement." He tells her, gesturing for the police officer that is dealing with her to take her away.

The woman, who Katniss has realised is a prostitute but that she takes no notice of, spits at him, and Peeta looks angry- but she can see some sort of underlying hurt that she won't let go of in a hurry. "You too." She whispers as he turns to face her.

"What?" He frowns, clearly irritated.

"It's so real." She whispers, reaching out to touch the hood of the red Quattro in front of her, feeling it and trying to determine how her mind could come up with something so real. "I can hear the traffic, the wind, the trees rustling, I can hear people and-"

"-Christ, she's going to break into song next." Peeta grumbles to the two men, who she knows as Finnick and Gale, watching her as Katniss feels the car. "Can we please get her into the station?"

"This is...too real." She mumbles, her nails tapping against the hood of the car, and she takes a breath. "This is what happened to _him_ , it couldn't happen to me, it can't, this can't happen to me."

From behind her, Gale coughs. "You alright?"

Ignoring him, Katniss thinks of the reason she's here, her mind flashing back to the gunshot and the bullet hitting her skull, and she panics again, not watching where she's going, and she accidentally steps in front of an oncoming car.

Luckily, or unluckily- she isn't sure-, Peeta grabs her by the shoulders and drags her back before the car can even touch her, and he holds her in his arms for a split second with wide eyes. "Are you insane?" He asks, and she tries to stand tall but her legs buckle under her. "Do you have any idea what the paperwork is like for suicides? Not on my watch!"

Then, he's picked her up in his arms, holding her in bridal style, and all of the fight she had leaves her, allowing her to sink into him slightly, somehow knowing he won't hurt her. He carries her over the threshold of the station, bringing her all the way in until he's pushing through two double doors, before he puts her down in the middle of the room.

At first, she's in awe, looking up at the checkered ceiling that reminds her so much of a memory she had, but she can only think that it's nothing but a trick of her mind, especially if she's in a coma of some kind. Her eyes stare too long into the lights and she blinks away the black spots, looking around at all the men around.

There are detectives and uniformed officers everywhere, all with coffees on their desks and interviewing the prostitutes and men who Katniss had seen on the party boat before, and it stinks of stale cigarettes, and she can see that every man in the room is smoking, some lighting one after just finishing one.

All of them are staring; all of them drinking her in, and she can't take it.

Her eyes focus on the private office at the very front of the room, past the six large desks that are around, all of them busy except one empty one, and she pushes past a couple of people, making a beeline for the office, catching sight of the name on the door.

DCI Peeta Mellark.

In the main room, there are only electric typewriters, desk lamps and the bare minimum, and the only computer is in the office, which Katniss immediately sits in front of, knowing that Peeta is following her by his heavy tread.

His office is neat and tidy, but she can spot the empty whiskey bottle in the bin and the ashtray full of butted out cigarettes, and there is a bulletin board on the wall that has a couple of newspaper clippings, along with a calendar that seems to be in celebration of the engagement of Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer, making Katniss raise an eyebrow but focus on the computer instead.

On the screen, there is mainly black, with only a couple of lines of green writing on it.

_17/07/1981_

"It's July nineteen eighty-one." She whispers, and Peeta looks at her like she's a circus animal, like it should be obvious. "This was the year my parents died."

Peeta frowns, not seeming to take pity on her, only looking irritated as he pulls off his coat and hangs it up. "Of what, confusion?" He steps up to her, leaning on his desk. He watches as she tries to type into the computer, and a woman walks in with a stack of reports in hand.

Katniss notes her uniform as being a WPC- a woman police constable, which she knows (for the time she's apparently in) is the lowest rank, though it doesn't surprise her. The woman has sea-green eyes much like Finnick does, with reddish hair and a gentle, timid, nature right from the off. "Guv, I-" Her eyes widen when she catches sight of Katniss, her attire, her face, and her whole demeanor. "Christ! You look rough. Here, maybe this will help..."

The woman places a can of Sprite in front of her, the packaging completely different from the 2008 version that Katniss knows, but she barely pays it any attention. From outside, someone – who Katniss recognises as Gale- chuckles. "Sprite?" He smirks. "She's a prostitute, Annie! She probably likes a drop of that champagne stuff before she takes her knickers off!"

Throwing the man a glare, he just smirks smugly at her, leaning on his desk, and she glances back up at Peeta when he speaks. "Bollinger," Peeta corrects Gale, knowing which champagne he was on about from the off, and even Katniss knew that one- as that brand is still very much around. "Now, _Bolly_ , you need to give me a statement-"

"I need to go home." She corrects, standing up and making her way out of the room, with everyone watching her as she heads to the empty desk, picking up the red rotary phone's receiver and holding it to her ear. "Hello," She whispers, even though she hasn't dialed. "I need help, I need to get home-"

The phone is wrestled from her hands, and she knows its Peeta behind her as he takes it and puts the phone back to normal. "No, you need to give me a statement before I throw you in a cell!" He states simply, but she completely ignores him, catching sight of something on the desk in front of her.

Slowly, Katniss sinks to her knees in front of him, and the whole of the room whoops, as from their angle, it looks as though Katniss is attempting to go down on him. Of course, she isn't, and her eyes are solely on the nameplate on the desk.

_DI Everdeen_

She grabs the plaque in hand, crumbling to her backside on the floor and clutching it, begging for it not to be true. She can't have a place here; she can't have a life, a job, people that know her. She just can't. At the very least, none of these people seem to know her, which panics her slightly less.

With a groan, Peeta grabs her gently by her arms, yanking her up to stand, and he frowns. "I've had enough. You need to give me a statement." He tells her, and she blinks furiously as she tries to focus her mind, and he lets her go, a warrant card falling out of the pocket of her jacket and falling to the floor.

He bends down to pick it up, reads it and doesn't react, before he passes it to her without a word, nodding to himself. Peeta turns to address the room again, acting like she isn't there as she opens the warrant card to stare at it. "As you all know, we're expecting a new DI. DI Everdeen." He tells them.

Gale, who has sat down with a cigarette that he's currently lighting, glances at Peeta. "Yeah, what time is he coming again?"

Without saying a word, Katniss lifts the warrant card to show him, her photo and DI Katniss Everdeen written across it, declaring herself as their new DI. A female, not a male, like everyone expected.

"What's the hooker doing with a warrant card?" Gale frowns, before he peers at it in her hands, and the cigarette falls from his mouth to the floor. "Oh no." He states as Peeta steps on the cigarette to put it out, nodding at him to confirm it.

Finnick, who had been paying attention elsewhere, looks up from his files and speaks up, completely oblivious to his surroundings, and Peeta glares at him. "I don't know many hookers, which is interesting considering my job. Then again, I don't get to know people I arrest well." Noticing Katniss, he raises an eyebrow. "Why has that posh tart got a warrant card?"

Nudging him, Peeta frowns, and the whole room watches as Katniss lowers the card, still in shock, stunned as to everything that's happening. "DI Everdeen." He finally greets, coughing once.

"DCI Mellark." She finally looks up into his eyes, and he must be able to sense her panic and confusion, as she's waiting for some smug remark, but it doesn't come.

Instead, he just comments. "Welcome to team, _Inspector_."

* * *

Pressing the button on the side of the TV once more, the image of the old TV show 'Rainbow' comes on, with Zippy- an orange puppet with a rugby-ball-shaped head, blue eyes and a zip for a mouth- and George, a pink hippo, comes on the screen. "Oh God." She mumbles, watching them speak for a moment, like she's searching for something on the screen.

Back when she knew Cato Hadley, before he killed himself, he told her about this world, the world she has somehow managed to find himself in. He told her about the people in it- granted he was in 1973- and the attitudes. He told her he heard voices through radios and the TV, telling him what was going on in their world, telling him when he had been found.

Katniss automatically thought (hoped) that it would be the same for her.

"I know how this works." She mumbles to herself, smacking the button to change the channel. "You're supposed to talk to me, someone is meant to tell me what's going on." Katniss changes the channel again- knowing she only has a limited amount of channels.

Unlike in 2008 London that she's used to, that she's lived in her whole life and spent all her time in, there aren't thousands of channels for her to explore. There are only three, maybe four, and she's been through them all two hundred times, but she keeps flicking.

Landing back on BBC1, she stops, watching the news as the presenter tells her about the England race riots, something she knows about and has heard about millions of times before, but she leaves the station playing, wondering if it'll tell her anything new.

She hears Peeta enter the small kitchen break space she's in, and she barely glances up from her seat in front of the old TV, her eyes hurting from the bad picture. "Enjoying the news?" He raises an eyebrow, walking to the counter and grabbing two empty mugs. "Never anything on, I find. All bad news."

"The public hates you." She comments as she watches rioters throw bricks at the Police on the TV, and she sighs to herself.

Pausing, he shoots her a look. "They hate us."

She turns to him, shock in her eyes over how much the country could hate the force that claims to protect them. She was five when it all happened, and so she can't remember all the details, but she knows enough to know it's something her parents shielded her from.

She wishes they still could.

"Racial tension. Anti-police demos." Katniss states, her tone clipped and short as she watches him make tea. "Lord Scarman compiling his report on institutionalized corruption within the Met-"

"You're choking on a dictionary." Peeta cuts in, the kettle boiling behind him. "Should I perform the Heimlich Manoeuver?"

Rolling her eyes, she turns back to the TV, where Lord Scarman- a judge and barrister who was a Law Lord- faces the public, delivering a speech on how the Police will be tough and stand tall. Peeta seems to have had enough, as when he places a cup of tea down in front of her, he turns it off.

"Hey!"

"No time for idle chatter." He reminds her. "Police officers, or have you forgotten in that lovely little boat party, which I'm going to assume you were undercover for, not just enjoying yourself."

"Let's assume that." She agrees, raising an eyebrow when he takes off his suit jacket and offers it to her, and she hates that he knows she's uncomfortable still in her short red dress and fur coat- which she despises. She takes it from him and shucks off the fur one, replacing it easily. "Thank you."

He gives a short nod, before taking a gulp of his tea, and she briefly wonders how he hasn't burned his mouth. "That man, the one who did a failed hostage attempt on you," He starts, and she turns to him in interest. "His name is Gloss Malcolm-"

"Gloss?"

"I know, I think it's ridiculous but I'm called Peeta so...can't comment." He reasons, and she shrugs- she can't imagine Katniss is a normal name either. "Gloss is a big time banker here in the city, and he heads up a big drug dealership."

She ignores him, the subject not particularly interesting her, especially as it's not real, and this will mean nothing. She'll be back with Prim before the day is up, with any luck. If only she can figure out how. "Cato said he heard voices through the television-"

Peeta opens his mouth to yell at her for not listening, but he seems to realise what she said and he shuts up again, seeming vaguely interested. "Cato..."

"Hadley. I knew him." She explains.

"Explains a lot. He was weird too."

She sends him a glare. "I write about police colleagues that go through unusual trauma. I spoke to Cato when he...came back from this place." She gestures around, and Peeta frowns in confusion but ignores wherever 'back' is- he obviously doesn't care that much.

"And working with me is unusual trauma?" He chuckles, taking a sip of his tea, actually seeming interested but he's trying to hide it. She can't blame him; even she's confused about the whole situation.

"I can see why." She smirks, not meaning for it to sound teasing, and she hates herself for the way her tone comes out. Immediately, her face drops back to normal, and she focuses on the subject they were supposed to be on instead. "Anyway, Gloss Malcolm-"

"I'm about to interview him. Want to sit in?" He asks, and she gives him a nod.

Katniss flips through the files in her hands as she leans on the wall behind her, a few feet away from the table in the interview room where Peeta sits on one side with DS Hawthorne, and Gloss Malcolm along with his lawyer sit on the opposite side.

Gloss seems far too cocky for her liking, and he shushes his brief for the third time just in the past five minutes. Her eyes narrow as she watches him speak, but she barely pays any attention, instead focusing on the files in front of her.

"Does it feel good, Mr. Malcolm?" Peeta takes a drag of the cigarette between his fingers, seeming as exasperated as she feels just watching them. "You make money off good, honest, decent, working-class children. You turn them into ghosts and rent boys who just want their next fix-"

Again, Gloss's brief goes to speak, but Gloss waves him off with a chuckle, cocky as ever and like he's the Lord's greatest gift. "You have no evidence of that." He reminds them.

From next to Peeta, she hears a grumble come from Gale, and she can't help but roll her eyes. If she cared at all, she would tell them that there's something wrong, that Gloss is far too cocky, but she doesn't.

"According to this senior female officer, _mirabile dictu_ ," Gloss nods his head at Katniss, who stands up straighter when she's mentioned. "You were deliberately looking for a, what was it, a 'Fatality Outcome'." He smirks. "Blowing my head off. Ipso facto, my case rests."

Glancing back at her, she doesn't miss the dark- almost intimidating- look that Peeta sends her, and she ignores him in favour of going back to the files she's mindlessly flicking through in search of answers. She messed up, but she won't let him see that she knows that. She's not stupid.

Gale scoffs, butting out his cigarette with a scowl. "That's bullshit. Plus, half of it was in some hippie-dippy-bullshit language-"

"-Latin-" She interjects.

"Whatever. If we wanted you dead, rest assured that we would do it. We'd come to your home and-" Gale pauses, and Katniss spots Peeta stepping right on his shoes, making him hunch over slightly like he's upset.

"My colleague would like to retract that remark, on the record." Peeta announces, and she can tell he's trying to keep Gale from saying something stupid and getting him fired. "Take no notice. His father is sick in hospital and, as you may understand, it's an emotional time." Peeta lies smoothly.

It's a blatant lie, but the lawyer nods, writing something down in his notepad whilst Gloss just smirks.

"Cocaine and heroin are flooding into this city and I know you're the one behind it." Peeta states, anger and irritation clear in his tone. "So just give it up, that's a good lad-"

Gloss grins, interrupting his brief before he can even speak. "You're living in a fantasy world. Mr. Mellark."

Stopping on a page in the file, Katniss stands up straight, coming away from the wall with a smirk as she sees the photo of the man who put her there.

Seneca Crane.

 _He must be behind this all_ , she thinks, storming out of the interview room without a second thought, leaving a confused DS Hawthorne and an irritated DCI Mellark behind, not that she cares. She has something better she needs to do, and she needs to hurry up. She needs to go home to Prim, help her blow out the candles of her birthday cake. She needs to be there for her just like she promised she would be.

She needs to find a radio.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, okay, so that closely resembled the show, mainly because I really needed to set it up and it just explains it SO WELL. As you can tell, Finnick, Peeta and Gale are COMPLETELY different to how they are in the books / movies, however they will have elements of their characters to them of course. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that at least a small amount, please let me know if I should continue / you would be interested in it.
> 
> Also, look at me saying I won't write 5k and writing nearly 6k. I'm winning.


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